


Partial Pressure

by cynicalshoes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicalshoes/pseuds/cynicalshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seb always does what Jim wants, and usually he wants it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partial Pressure

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2011/09/02 at [sherlockbbc_fic](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/) for [this prompt](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/10852.html?thread=55595108#t55595108).

Jim had always been demanding. Never one to back down.

Not even now, back against the wall, Sebastian's leg shoved between his knees. Cornered, but not compromised. Seb kissed him hungrily, using his greater weight to keep Jim pinned. Their teeth clicked in haste, and Seb tasted blood. It was to be expected; Jim had been teasing for the past hour and one of them had to pay the price.

It would invariably be Sebastian.

The thought made him growl, low in his throat, and Jim shivered beneath him with a calculated edge.

Seb slid a hand up Jim's chest, clenched his fist in the expensive fabric of Jim's suit. He'd watch for the moue of distaste later, when Jim folded back into his second skin. It was all part of Sebastian's own experiment: to determine how much farther he could go when Jim only granted him an inch.

Jim tugged him back to the present with a sharp bite to Seb's lower lip. His fingers tightened around Seb's arm, hard enough to bruise.

Seb was tempted to growl again, but he knew it would only make Jim laugh. Instead he trailed his lips down Jim's jaw, nipping at skin. The hand in Jim's hair tugged sideways rather sharper than necessary.

"My, my, Sebastian, aren't you quite the animal tonight."

Seb jerked back, releasing Jim's hair. There was something Jim wanted tonight, and he knew he could get it. He _would_ get it. Jim remained still, head crooked to the side, and the pale stretch of his neck was so tempting.

And he was well past subtlety, apparently.

Seb abandoned his work on Jim's shirt buttons and instead slid his hand further up Jim's chest to rest lightly around his neck. The slight hitch of breath was all the confirmation Seb received. Sebastian always did what Jim wanted. Usually it was what Seb wanted too.

He could see the mirth that sparked in Jim's eyes, both reassuring and infuriating.

"Shut up," he said quietly.

"And bossy too—"

Seb tightened his fingers. Under his palm he could feel the rise and fall of Jim's Adam's apple.

"I said—"

Jim was as hard as ever against his thigh, his eyes wide and round and so very, very black. His pulse fluttered, and Seb pushed in impossibly closer.

"Shut. Up."

Each word was punctuated with a tightening of Seb's fingers. He'd killed men like this; every one of them for Jim.

And Jim knew. Seb could read the exhilaration in the shine of his eyes, the flush of his cheeks and the barest of moans that slipped from Jim's slack lips. As a rule, Jim didn't moan; he hardly ever made a sound.

Seb rewarded him by digging a hand past his flies, gripping Jim's leaking cock with his free hand and tugging with short, firm strokes. He wanted Jim in pieces beneath him, wanted him ragged and frayed. He wanted Jim to know exactly what he'd asked for.

Seb leaned down, and pressed his lips against Jim's before he released the hand around his throat. Jim gasped and inhaled, stealing all the air from Seb's lungs even as his cock twitched in Seb's hand and he came in his trousers, the rush of oxygen and adrenaline suddenly overwhelming. It was only the combined support of Sebastian and the wall that kept Jim upright as he shuddered through his orgasm. He tore his mouth from Sebastian's and turned his head to pant into the side of Seb's neck.

Seb pressed his fingers into the base of Jim's spine, just this side of too hard. He could bruise too.

When Jim finally spoke his voice was even and controlled, as if he'd simply picked up where he last left off.

"Well trained, though."


End file.
